


august 27, 1782

by socks_oda



Category: 18th Century CE RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, death day :(, laurens death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:48:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26144383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/socks_oda/pseuds/socks_oda
Summary: “Poor Laurens; he has fallen a sacrifice to his ardor in a trifling skirmish in South Carolina. You know how truly I loved him and will judge how much I regret him.I will write you again soon after my arrival at Philadelphia.”
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens
Kudos: 12





	august 27, 1782

After spending the night with a group of ladies, Laurens was tired. But, alas, he had to set off for the Combahee.

He was still suffering from the fever he had caught a few days earlier, but he was trying to pull through because of the mission he was leading.

Dawn was creeping up along the horizon. He jumped onto his horse and set off, his men close behind him as he went. It was strange, being able to lead all of these men. They’d follow his command and die for this country if they had to.

He had gotten the news the night before that the British were coming to Charles Town to gather supplies, so he knew he had to go.

~~~  
  


The world seemed to be spinning now, flashing in front of his eyes. There were shouts and gunfire ringing in his ears, but the sound seemed to fade away. 

Why hadn’t he known that they’d be ambushed? General Gist couldn’t have been too far from the Combahee now, he must know what is going on.

The pain, at first, felt like nothing with all the adrenaline, but now, with the adrenaline wearing off, the pain was excruciating and felt like fire. He clutched his chest and heaved, coughing up blood and rolled over onto his back, looking up at the sky.

He knew, now, that this was going to be his final morning. His final day to see the sun rise again. He likely wouldn’t even last ‘til the nighttime.

He thought back to his childhood now. The few years he spent with Henri seemed so long ago now. Him and Patsy getting in trouble, comforting Harry and helping him with his school work whenever he was frustrated, scaring little Jemmy with tales of Jolly Rogers, picking flowers with Polly…..traveling to London with Harry and Jemmy. Oh God….

He could remember it so vividly. Jemmy’s body sprawled out of the pavement, blood pouring out of his head. He had fallen and cracked his skull open while trying to jump a fence, while he was under John’s care. He couldn’t help but still blame himself for Jemmy’s death, even now, in his last moments.

He thought back to the moments he spent with Kinloch. Those weren’t as vivid, and he’d like to forget them completely. Then, the moments with his wife. Very few he remembered still.

It reminded him that he had left his wife for the war. Left the wife he never loved, who was also going to bear his child, for the silly war between the American and the British. He felt guilty. His daughter never got to have a father figure, and not even a mother figure for very long. He hoped his sister was taking good care of her now, and giving her a loving and nurturing childhood he had failed to provide her.

Now he thought back to his earlier days in the war, his time spent as Washington’s aide, and most of all, meeting Hamilton. Fresh back in America, he came to the camp as a volunteer, and Washington and his aides accepted him so quickly and lovingly. They all got along (maybe apart from Reed being a bit of a prick at times, and Laurens disagreeing with Meade’s views on the slaves. Laurens hoped he could change Meade’s mind, which he somewhat achieved) and times spent with Washington felt like the healthy father-son relationship he never really had from his own father.

He knew he’d eventually come to this thought again.

Hamilton.

The cocky, quick witted, pretty boy he had met when he first came into camp. They had immediately gotten along, sharing playful jests at the dining table and staying up for long nights writing correspondence and translating for Washington. They fit together perfectly, it seemed. 

They shared similar views and politics and the issue around slaves. They worked together to try and abolish slavery, and Hamilton supported Laurens’ plans for freeing and arming the slaves.

When Laurens had first met Hamilton, he knew they would get along together, not to mention his witty personality and charming looks.

His fiery red hair seemed to go along with his personality, something Laurens would tease him about often. He was small compared to the other aides, standing about 5’7 while everyone else (excluding Tench) were taller and more broader than him. He was very thin throughout the entirety of his days in the revolution.

Laurens honestly could hardly believe they were around the same age, since Hamilton looked much younger than he truly was. He was malnourished, by the looks of it, thin and short. The aides even suspected he had been lying about his age.

Hamilton never confirmed nor denied anything revolving around his age, so Laurens did not know, something he felt odd for not knowing, but Hamilton was never very open about his personal life. Laurens knew of an absent father, passed mother, and a hurricane, which gave him the opportunity to come to America.

They were so perfect for each other.

He remembered oh so clearly, Hamilton’s eyes. 

A striking deep blue color, much different to Laurens’ own blue, almost grey, eyes. He would even go as far as to say that they perhaps looked indigo.

Many people had commented on Hamilton’s looks before, but it was mostly his eyes. Laurens could see why.

In his eyes, Hamilton seemed like a blessing to him. Perhaps a message from God rewarding him for making it this far with everything that had happened before? Or, perhaps, a curse. 

Nothing could cure him of his love for man, something he had hated himself over for. He thought, just maybe, that it was a phase and that marrying a woman would rid him of this, but then he came home to America and fell for another man.

He hated himself for it.

But, still, nothing could deny that he loved Hamilton very much. The soft kisses and intimate moments they shared in their tents or in the aides’ rooms. Hands brushing each other when reaching for a plate at the dining table. Sneaking glances at each other when washing in the river.

Needless to say, Laurens would miss him very much.

Lastly, he thought of his mother.

Her sweet, sweet, loving and nurturing smile. She’d sing soft French lullabies to him and Henri when they were younger. She never read stories, she sang. Her voice was beautiful. A voice of an angel.

Laurens closed his eyes and let out a breath, still holding tightly onto the spot where the bullet entered.

_Perhaps it is too late for me now._

His grip loosened and he let himself relax. 

_God, please forgive me for my sins I have committed. I want to see my Jemmy, Henri, John, and mother again…._

_Please, just one more time._

_One last time._

His breathing slowed, the pounding in his head becoming dull. He breathed in and out one last time, the sound of shouting and gunshots fading away.

Everything. Everything faded away.

  
  


~~~

_“Poor Laurens; he has fallen a sacrifice to his ardor in a trifling skirmish in South Carolina. You know how truly I loved him and will judge how much I regret him._

_I will write you again soon after my arrival at Philadelphia.”_

**Author's Note:**

> sorry!


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